Sweeney

Across the Fence #309

It’s very quiet in Sherpeland tonight. Sweeney, that lovable bundle of energy is back home with Amy and Tim. We were dog-sitting Sweeney while they were on their honeymoon in Ireland. Linda, who has Irish heritage, had offered to carry their bags, but they thought they could handle that job by themselves.

After the wedding, Sweeney came home with us. She’s spent time with us in the country before, but never for two weeks. When the kids were young, we had a Sheltie named Toby. He was the best dog and it really spoiled us. Some dogs can be a real challenge. Sweeney falls into the same category as Toby. She was a joy to have around and no trouble.

All you dog lovers should be able to relate to everything in this story. You know you’re loved and missed when you have a dog. The minute you open the door, you’re attacked, jumped on, licked, and kissed. Even if you’ve only been gone for an hour, you’d think they hadn’t seen you in a month. This greeting can go on for several minutes while you try to work your way into the house. When I came home from work, she was into the front seat and wildly greeting me before I could even get out of the car. Then we had to play in the front yard and throw the Frisbee before I could go inside. She also ran in circles as fast as she could, around me, around the car, and sometimes around the outside of the house. What is it about a dog that makes them chase in circles like that? Every dog I remember has done that.

All this chasing around can be interesting for a guy like me who has a few years on this old body. It doesn’t react like a twenty-year-old body, or even a fifty-year-old body. I must have pulled a groin muscle during one of our chasing and playing escapades. My body can no longer stop on a dime and do a quick turn without something snapping, crackling, or popping. I sound like a bowl of Rice Krispies walking down the street! I’m still walking rather gingerly. A friend informed me it’s gonna’ take a long time to heal, especially at my age. Thanks, I needed to hear that.

You can’t let a little pain interfere with your fun, so Sweeney and I spent a lot of time exploring the fields and wooded areas around our place. She loves to explore as much as I do. As you dog lovers know, there’s something about gross and stinky things that attracts a dog and compels them to roll in it. It can be half a mile away and they head for it like a heat-seeking missile. Unfortunately, the honey wagons were busy spraying liquid manure on the fields around us while Sweeney was with us. I don’t have to tell you what that smell can do to a dog’s fur. It’s a toss up between being sprayed by a skunk or rolling in liquid manure, as to which is the more offensive smell. It’s one of the perks of living in the country.

Sweeney also loves to go for rides in the car. Almost every evening we went for a ride around the countryside. Dogs love to have their nose out the window, sniffing the air. I wonder if they ever get a bug up their nose while going fifty miles an hour? That would tend to hurt. She rode in the back seat, with her head always between us as she observed everything we passed: cows, Amish buggies and horses, lamas, squirrels, deer, and of course, cats that commanded her utmost attention.

Every day, she helped Linda get the mail, and had to carry a piece of mail to the house. Junk mail and political flyers were her specialty. She also carried her dish to the dishwasher after finishing eating. She’s a well-trained dog and wants to help do things.

Sleeping was an adventure. She slept in her bed on the floor in our bedroom, at least for the first part of the night. Sometime during the night, she’d hop up on our bed and plop down between us. I guess she found it more cozy having company. I’d wake up with a paw in my face or her tongue cleaning my ears, face, and neck. Sometimes she rested her head on my neck. I preferred that to her butt-end in my face. When the alarm rang, she was ready to greet the day at full speed. The first order of business, after sniffing the morning air, was a trip to the hayfield. She trotted off to do her duties in the privacy of the tall grass. Better there than in the middle of the lawn.

I guess I failed to mention that Sweeney is half German Shepherd and half Collie, so she’s a good sized dog. Those are known as two of the smartest breeds of dogs and it really shows in her. She’s smart, affectionate, rambunctious, curious, helpful, and a joy to have around. But then all people say that about their grandchildren, and in our case our granddog.

As much as she liked being with us, she went wild when she saw Amy and Tim. You just can’t beat a dog for a faithful, loving companion.